Carol of the Bells
by InkStainedBlood
Summary: In SC2, Bernard is taken from the lime light...to house arrest. Here's what happened from when he was convicted to the end of the movie. Bernard angst and Curtis friendship. Maybe explaination to Santa Clause 3...?
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: If I were ruler of the world, I would own David Krumholtz (JK!) and would not be broke and hungry. The Santa Clause copyrighted by Disney and Bernard is copyrighted by the Awesome Curly Hair Foundation….a.k.a. David.

NOTE: This is mostly written in third person omniscient, but will be labeled on first person thoughts.

Carol of the Bells

The two dimwitted toy soldiers grabbed Bernard and roughly started to shove him towards Santa's office. Bernard was still trying to convince the elves around him that the Santa standing before them was a fake and had a rubber tushy…

The soldiers finally reached the main hallway in front of the office, after many colorful protests from the elf hostage stuck in between them. Bernard could see the door to the big man's office to his right, but the soldiers seemed to have navigational disabilities. He roughly nudged himself to the right, in hope that the toys would believe he had trying to run from something on the left side of the hall.

The soldiers pulled the elf back and started going towards the left, towards the ball room. 'Guess they can't read,' Bernard's hope was regained as the soldier to his right reached out for the handle to the large brass and burgundy door. He could just hear the balls flying through the air, and for once in his life, he relished the idea of having the room built.

The door was opened and a ball flew out and hit the soldier, on the left, square in the face. The soldier fell over and let go of Bernard. The other was too stupefied to realize that he loosened his hold on Bernard. Bernard yanked away from the soldiers and ran in the direction of Santa's office. He was almost to the other side of the hall when a huge navy-colored arm blocked his view and he ran into it, causing him to fall to the floor. He gripped the front of his head in agony as two more metal arms surrounded him and lifted him off the floor. The first soldier, whose arm he ran into, swung his upper body and hit Bernard in the stomach. Bernard coughed and attempted to lurch forward in order to protect his stomach. To no avail, the second soldier just held Bernard tighter, slightly crushing the small elf's chest. This made Bernard panic even more. He completely forgot about the first one until a metal arm struck his head again. This time, however, Bernard surrendered to the soldiers and to the crushing of his chest.

He saw the first toy turn around, and finally, walk in the direction of Santa's room. The second toy held Bernard off the ground and carried him to the room. As they were passing the corner of the hall to the main floor of the factory, Bernard looked up and saw a smaller yet extremely familiar elf staring at him. Curtis. In his almost unconscious state, he still held Curtis responsible for what was happening. But, he too, felt responsible for he lied to the other elves in order to let Santa go find a wife. He just hoped Santa was waiting until after Christmas to have the Honeymoon.

***Curtis***

'Bernard. The hardest working elf, who always knew how to solve a problem, was defeated. And by mere toy soldiers! How did it come to this? The rubber and plastic Santa was just supposed to walk around and say "Good job!" to the elves until the real Santa came back. How did the plastic one become the dictator of this new confound communism?' He watched as Bernard stared at the floor in a daze while the soldiers took him into the old Santa's office.

'This has to be stopped! It's gone too far!' Curtis imagined steam flaring out of his soft pointed ears. He swiftly turned around and walked away towards the sleigh room to devise a plan.

***Bernard***

Bernard could see the dim light radiating off Santa's desk as the soldiers carried him across the room to another door, which led to the living room of Santa's suite. There, number one grabbed some lights and tossed them to the second one, who miraculously caught them while still holding the limp elf. Bernard felt the cord of the lights bound his hands together behind his back. Number Two placed him on the floor, in a kneeling position. Then, Number One returned with a bundle of green and silver tinsel and the two proceeded to wrap the tinsel around Bernard, as an arrangement of a bondage trick. They finished tying him up; tightly, I might add.

Once again, Number Two's arms snaked around Bernard's fastened torso and he was lifted into the air and then, abruptly tossed into a closet, with the door slammed behind him.

***Curtis***

He had seen the soldiers take Bernard into Santa's office, and he even caught a glimpse of them tying him up through the crack in the door. He had originally gone to the sleigh room, but then he realized that he needed to know where exactly Bernard was and where the soldiers were. So, with a pair of quick feet, he rushed back to the door to Santa's office, which was the destination of the soldiers' drop-off was, and peeked through the crack. He watched the resignation of the older elf flare as he was dropped to his knees and bound like an adolescent's hand-wrapped gift. He couldn't even bare watching the soldiers toss him through another door and walk away; their glimmering, metallic smiles painted on the hollow faces of a monstrosity, only created and manipulated by an atrocity, fake, just like them.

Once the soldiers had left through the north door to the room, Curtis swiftly flung the door open and caught it with an ease, 'Just like skipping E.L.F.-cons training.' He quickly pulled himself away from his nostalgia and scampered over to the closet door.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: If I were ruler of the world, I would own David Krumholtz (JK!) and would not be broke and hungry. The Santa Clause copyrighted by Disney and Bernard is copyrighted by the Awesome Curly Hair Foundation….a.k.a. David.

NOTE: This is mostly written in third person omniscient, but will be labeled on first person thoughts.

After working magic, quite literally, on the lock, the door 'clicked' open and he immediately threw open the door and discovered the other elf on the floor. Curtis kneeled down and moved Bernard's curly bangs out of his face. It was then, when Curtis noticed the rapidly expanding dark bruise on Bernard's left side of his face, spread out from his hairline down to his cheekbone. There was even a small dry stream of blood above his eyebrow, where the skin broke apart.

***Bernard***

At the touch of Curtis's wavering fingers, Bernard's eyes flittered open. His left eyelid demanded to stay shut, detesting the presence of pain coursing through its skin. He looked at the floor, awaiting the lasting effects of the daze his mind held over his eyes. Then, he diverted his sight up to the person who revived him.

"Cur-Curtis!" he stammered, his head pounding increasingly stronger every second. The younger elf quickly covered Bernard's mouth and cautiously looked around the vacant office. Curtis leaned over Bernard and started untying the tinsel bonds that overlapped numerous times, all the while, crushing Bernard's chest. Then, he moved onto the lights tightly wrapped around Bernard's quickly paling wrists. He looked back over at Bernard's face, seeing Bernard wince at the rushing feeling of blood flowing back through his almost numb hands.

"Alright Bear," using the nickname Bernard hated, "I'm going to help you up and we're going to get out of here. But you have to be quiet, alright?" Curtis asked as he draped one of Bernard's over his shoulder. Bernard bit back a cry as he slowly was lifted to a low crouch, mostly leaning on top of Curtis. He shifted a little, so as his feet were more planted and sturdy under his body weight.

Curtis looked around the office and started edging towards the door. As they were a few steps away from the door, faux laugher was emitted from the other door with the sounds of heavy thuds, all getting closer and closer to the door. Curtis's head quickly shot to the direction of the incoming noises like a deer in a pair of headlights. A soft nudge in his ribs brought him out of his reverie. He looked over at Bernard who looked just as alarmed as he did.

"Curtis, go get Santa. Tell him about everything that going's on. Go get him; go get help," Bernard swung his arm off of Curtis's shoulder and crept over to the great desk, leaving Curtis in a state of shock.

"CURTIS! GO!" Bernard commanded as he sat down in the red velvet chair. He looked back at Curtis's confounded, then retreating figure, awaiting the big confrontation with Mr. Rubber.

The man in question slammed open the decorated office door with a hearty laugh, followed by his eerily smiling soldiers. Bernard quickly turned the chair around, grabbed the still steaming hot cocoa, and splashed it in the unexpectedly shocked Santa's face. He heard the other door softly close on the other side of the room. He looked back up at the piping red-faced rubber Santa, before the man started screaming obscenities and orders at the metal soldiers to capture Bernard, which in Bernard's state, wasn't very hard to do.

Bernard, once again, felt the heavy grasps of the two dimwitted soldiers on his already aching arms. Bernard looked up at the new Santa just in time to be slapped by a giant rubber hand, hard. A new wave of dizziness hit him as he turned his head down to the floor and closed his eyes, but not before he saw the bundle of discarded tinsel handed to Santa by a third soldier.

He felt the soldier to his left catch the tossed tinsel and start tying him back up with the other soldier. Bernard looked back at Santa, who was grinning insanely happy with a dark shadow overlapping his cheerful face. It was scary enough to give even Bernard nightmares.

When the soldiers seemed to be finished, Mr. Rubber gave another hearty laugh which gave Bernard shivers.

"Bernard, Bernard, Bernard. What am I gonna do with you? I can't have an elf that lies to all my other elves…right before Christmas!" he spat in Bernard's uninterested face, "And since I'm Santa, I have to do something about that. I can't exactly kill you,"

-Bernard's heart stopped, his lungs the same-

"…But I'll have to worry about you after my trip. We can't forget the children! They must be punished! Did you know every single child was bad this year? Even that Sally girl…" Bernard wasn't going to listen to that.

"Don't you even dare start talking about how bad the kids are, Fake Santa! You're one to be talking! You're not even the real Santa!" Bernard's rant was cut short by another eerie, full laugh and by a long piece of cloth jammed in his mouth. He tried to finish yelling, but the Santa just pulled the ends of the gag tighter and tied them behind Bernard's head.

Santa just smirked and harshly patted the side of Bernard's face, the bruised side of Bernard's face. With that, the two soldiers grabbed Bernard and dragged him back over the closet. The deposited him the same way as they did earlier, once again slamming the door and leaving him in darkness.

'And I didn't even have breakfast this morning,' he thought as a small rumble in his stomach announced itself.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: If I were ruler of the world, I would own David Krumholtz (JK!) and would not be broke and hungry. The Santa Clause copyrighted by Disney and Bernard is copyrighted by the Awesome Curly Hair Foundation….a.k.a. David.

NOTE: This is mostly written in third person omniscient, but will be labeled on first person thoughts. This chapter is short, but shows how Bernard's holding up throughout the movie: passing out from…well, everything.

***Bernard***

'Now, I really am crazy,' Bernard thought to himself, as colors swam throughout his vision even though he was in complete darkness. At first there was a small amount of red when he tried to adjust himself on the floor. Then there was navy and bright yellow when he tried looking for something to cut the bounds with. Many hours later, he's still bound and uncomfortable on the floor staring at the colors that race around in his vision.

A light suddenly flooded the floor of the closet, blinding Bernard. Then he realized that there was someone in the office. He tried to scream for help, but not even he could hear his muffled cry. He moved around on the floor, hoping that whoever may hear him. But in the cramped space, it was unlikely. After a few minutes, he gave up his feeble attempts and bit back a frustrated cry when the light suddenly gave out and he was once again in darkness.

But this time, the darkness seemed different. He now knew what hope was and saw it crushed. The darkness was watching him, snickering at his pathetic and hopeless tries to escape. The darkness was choking him in shrouded fear and mystery. He needed to get out.

As he had tried before, calling out for help was a disadvantage of his situation. But if they couldn't hear his cries, then maybe they could hear his once starving stomach cry out in anguish.

His mouth was dry. His head was fuzzy and light, other than the pounding migraine that shook throughout his body. He couldn't even feel hunger anymore. The colors were back, but they would soon be gone. He just laid there on the floor, awaiting nothing and expecting no one.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: If I were ruler of the world, I would own David Krumholtz (JK!) and would not be broke and hungry. The Santa Clause copyrighted by Disney and Bernard is copyrighted by the Awesome Curly Hair Foundation….a.k.a. David.

A YEAR! O HOLY NIGHT, IT'S BEEN A YEAR! I'm so sorry to those who actually read my stuff and have been waiting for these last few chapters! I could go on about everything that has happened this year that help to delay my posting, but in all actuality…it's my fault and I'll take the blame and shame you guys give me.

This is probably the longest chapter there is…enjoy…hopefully.

***Bernard***

Upon hearing a commotion outside the door, Bernard woke up with a jolt from his light sleep. He looked over at the door, which once more flooded the floor with light. He heard a mass of voices outside the door, but one clearly rang through his ears: Curtis. He weakly tried calling out to the other elf, but to no avail.

'Great, now they've got me and Curtis. Santa's gonna be furious when he finds out! ...If he ever gets married and becomes Santa again, that is.' Bernard laid his head on the wooden floor and waited for the plastic Santa to punish him and the newly captured Curtis.

Just then, the closet door opened with a blinding light as two shadows came forth and kneeled down beside Bernard. When his eyes became adjusted to the bright light, he realized that the shorter shadow to his right was Curtis. He tried to sit up and tell Curtis to get out before Mr. Rubber came back, but Curtis quickly covered his mouth and started removing the bonds of tinsel. When his chest and mouth was free, he looked up to see a pretty blonde-haired woman smiling down at him. He was about to ask her if she was an angel, but Curtis beat him to the punch.

"Bernard, this is Ms. Carol. Ms. Carol, this is Bernard," he simply said, "Ms. Carol is here to help us and Santa save Christmas." Bernard merely smiled and said 'hello' in a raspy voice.

"You know, Santa was so shocked when I told him that you were under house arrest. He couldn't even believe it. Well, I wouldn't either if I hadn't seen it, though," Curtis rambled on. There was a small pressure on the tinsel wrapped around Bernard's numb wrists. "I almost have it…there!" Curtis exclaimed as the pressure was released and the blood started flowing back into Bernard's hands. The feeling was strangely comfortable, seeing how he couldn't feel anything in his hands for the past amount of hours.

Bernard rubbed his raw wrists and smiled, hiding the truth of his condition from Curtis. He knew he felt weak and tired, and hell, even scared, but he didn't need to tell Curtis about it. He could tell him later after they save Santa and Christmas.

"So," he cleared his throat, "Curtis, what's the plan?"

Curtis and Carol helped Bernard up and they walked out into Santa's office. Curtis and Carol sat down on the couch while Bernard sat in a chair opposite them, stretching his unused limbs. His right ankle started to throb, probably twisted it when he was thrown into the closet.

"Alright, this is what we're going to do…We'll get a team of elves to scout while the rest of the elves attacks the soldiers and then we take them to the kitchen. What temperature do you think they melt at?" Curtis rambled on, wildly gesturing and speaking rapidly. Carol nervously laughed as Bernard shook his head.

"No, that won't work. Even if we had a greater number of elves against them, they would just attack us as we bring them to the kitchen…and they could call for back up and surround us," Bernard retaliated, "What we need is a surprise attack. If we could get all of the toy soldiers grouped together, then we could take them all down at once. And I don't think we need to burn them. We could just take them apart; they're hollow and almost completely mindless. If the plastic Santa doesn't give them orders, they don't know what to do." Curtis and Carol thought it over until Curtis jumped up.

"Alright! I've got an idea! We'll lure them together and then wham! We'll take them apart and then go save Christmas!" he yelled in pure excitement. He looked over at Bernard, who was laughing silently. Curtis just stood there, watching Bernard in annoyance.

"Sorry Curtis, now you know why I'm the first head elf. Now, back to what we were talking about. What will be our distraction?" He looked up at Curtis who grinned brightly.

They all watched as Santa flew away on Chet, worrying about their friend. Bernard turned to the other elves.

"Okay, everybody…outside!" he shouted as the other elves turned and ran out to the main hall doors. Bernard limped along with Ms. Carol as Curtis took the lead and commanded the horde of defiant elves. They formed in front of the great wooden doors, occupying the stairs leading up. In front of them stood the entire army of soldiers, standing still and lifeless.

Bernard, standing in the center of the elf crowd, whistled and waved his arm in the air.

"Snowballs on three!"

The other elves bent down and reached into the snow with a harsh cadence. All of the elves jerked back up, hands filled with frozen ammo. Bernard started the countdown.

"1…"

"2…" The elves shook with anticipation. Bernard looked back over at Curtis and Carol, who both smirked back at him.

"3!" White pellets of snow and ice flew through the air, smashing into the chests and heads of the metal soldiers. All black eyes turned to the smaller crowd, ignoring the battle of the Santas above them.

"Okay, elves! Let's get 'em!" Bernard commanded, soon surrounded by torrents of brightly colored elves. The elves were possessed by a vicious pride and love as they attacked the soldiers and took them apart, limbs and gears and metal scrapes. Bernard noticed a group of soldiers were backing away. He quickly gathered the red ribbon outlining the metal railings and limped over to Curtis.

"Curtis," getting the younger elf's attention, "Go get two snowmobiles…and hurry!" He watched Curtis's retreating back disappear into one of the garage entrances when he started feeling lightheaded. It was then, that he realized that the white ground and shimmering buildings were tilting. He quickly shook his head, clearing the dizziness, and heard the sound of two motors coming to meet him.

Curtis tossed Bernard a helmet, knowing that safety was the first rule in the elf handbook, and caught the end of ribbon that Bernard threw to him.

"Here's what we're going to do," Bernard yelled over the hum of the motors, his throat feeling scratchy and sore from lack of use.

"We're going to trip those soldiers over there. You'll be on that side and I'll be on this side. Okay?" Curtis smiled at him and they both pushed forward on the machines, pulling tight on the ribbon as they neared. The two soldiers went down easily and suddenly, a large group of elves ran over and started to tear apart the soldiers. Bernard got off the snowmobile and took off the helmet, feeling a strange and uncomforting dizziness lurk up in his head again. He was only somewhat aware of Curtis hopping out of his snowmobile and running in the other direction. Bernard turned to go sit down somewhere when he heard a cry. There was a younger group of elves that were struggling to take down two soldiers in front of them. Bernard ran over to them, ignoring the throb in his temple that started to occur.

There were two boys, who had latched themselves to a couple of the soldiers' legs, and a girl who was clinging to a soldier's neck while hitting it in the head with a broomstick. Bernard lifted the child off of the soldier's neck and started hitting it with the broomstick. The soldier quickly whipped around and tried to grab the broomstick from his hands. Bernard turned the stick's end and swiftly pierced the tin man's neck, which dislodged his head. The little girl went scrambling after the rolling head and then started to kick it around like a soccer ball. Bernard couldn't help himself as he lightly chuckled at the scene, ignoring the soldier's remaining body tumble to the ground behind him.

Then the dizziness returned. He shook his head, trying to rid of the fog that was clouding his vision, but that only made his head ache even more. He staggered a little before he was able to straighten out and put most of his weight on his uninjured ankle.

He lifted his head from his hands. A flash of red and blue. A weight pinning him down. A weight, then pain to his shoulder. More pain to his head. A whirring noise in his ears. The inability to open his eyes. Finally…sleep.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: If I were ruler of the world, I would own David Krumholtz (JK!) and would not be broke and hungry. The Santa Clause copyrighted by Disney and Bernard is copyrighted by the Awesome Curly Hair Foundation….a.k.a. David.

Here's the second post of the day! Only one more chapter to go! Merry Christmas in July, I guess…even though that's two months away. Here's Curtis' part.

***Curtis***

It was a victory. No doubt about it. A sweet chocolate chip-flavored, cocoa-smelling victory. WE won and the Fake Santa and his men ate dust…snow dust, that is.

Curtis looked around him at the other in pride and happiness. Santa was tying up the Rubber Santa after their sleigh crashed; many of the bigger elves were tossing the tin pieces of the soldiers into a giant bin, while the younger and smaller elves gather little bits like screws and gears and tossed them in. All in all, everyone worked together to take down the horrible villain, even if it was he and Bernard that cr-wait! Bernard! Where did he run off to?

Curtis glanced over to the bigger elves but didn't see him. He looked over to where Santa was lifting Fake Santa off the ground, expecting the Number One elf to be brown-nosing the man, but didn't see him. In fact, he didn't see Bernard anywhere. He felt a strange feeling sliding up through his multiple internal organs and stopping at his esophagus. It was the same feeling he felt when he saw the soldiers dragging Bernard away: fear.

He shuffled through a crowd of elves and ran over to Santa. He stopped in front of the man and held up his hand, waiting until he could control his breathing.

"Curtis, what is it?" Santa sighed, knowing that this conversation may delay his departure, "Curtis?"

Curtis looked up at the man finally and quickly pushed away his overpowering fear into a more controlled and stable concern.

"I don't know where Bernard is." Santa lightly chuckled.

"As much as you guys fight, I know you've got each others' backs." Curtis looked down at his feet. "Look, Curtis, he's probably just helping clean up. Knowing him, he probably already has an organized clean up plan assigned to everyone." He laughed again. Curtis looked up; his fear was still sitting in the back of his throat.

"Sir, if I may ask, please help me find him. He was beaten up pretty badly by the guards and I'm not sure how bad off he is…please?" Santa looked down at him and then back to the tied up Santa. He looked back at Curtis and sighed.

"All right, let's go find Bernard and then, get rid of Mr. Plastic. We've got Christmas to save!" Santa started walking off and Curtis couldn't help but thanking Mother Nature for such an amazing boss.

They turned around the corner of a building and almost ran into a group of little ones. Santa smiled as they reenacted their defeat over what seemed to be a pair of soldiers.

"But yous should have seen it! He hit him right in the neck and his head fell right off! And I went after it and scored one for us!" The two boys laughed along with the little girl as she pretended to kick around an invisible head. Curtis looked over at her and couldn't help but smile, as well.

"But then when I went back, he was playing "asleep." I tried to wake him up but he wouldn't wake up and the bad guy was lying right on top of him. I guess they were both tired. And I wouldn't blame him! Being Head Elf must be hard work!" The boys joined the girl in reenacting one of their fighting scenes. But Santa had already heard.

He walked over to the group and asked them where they were fighting the soldiers. All three fingers pointed over by a kiosk, where a pile of tin remains laid. He ran jogged over to the area with a slightly confused and out-of-breath Curtis on his heels.

"Santa…where are we running to?" They both stopped and Santa started searching under the big pieces of the soldiers. There were three sets of soldier parts and two of them were mostly still connected.

"Curtis, give me a hand over here!" Santa called as he grabbed the back part of a torso. Curtis skipped over to him and grabbed the pair of legs connected. They both lifted up the carcass and tossed it to the side. Underneath, however, was a dark green beret and a piece of gold-detailed maroon fabric.

"Bernard!" Curtis started pushing the other body to the side, but it wasn't until Santa helped him that it actually moved. Bernard was still and pale. He had the old bruises and laceration on the left side of his face but there was a new, steady flow of blood dripping down the right side of his face from his temple. His right sleeve was torn in places and his arm stuck out at a weird angle. He was still. Curtis knew the fear was awake again. He was still…

"Bernard? Bernard, can you hear me?" Santa had moved Bernard into a sitting position and was listening to his heartbeat and breathing. Curtis could only sit there, staring at the discarded beret.

"Curtis, he's still breathing alright. I think his shoulder might be dislocated, but I'm not sure. We have to get him to the infirmary! Curtis!" Curtis sharply looked up at Santa, still processing all of the information. He nodded his head and stood up.

Santa gathered Bernard into his arms and lifted the smaller man up. He looked around and started walking in the direction of the infirmary. Curtis started hurrying after him, stopped, ran back and grabbed the beret before he continued to chase after Santa and his unconscious friend. Bernard…was still…his best friend. He tightened his grip on the decorated beret and quickened his pace, knowing his best friend would be okay. They had gotten through everything together before; this time wouldn't be any different.


	6. Chapter 6 Epilogue

Disclaimer: If were ruler of the world, I would own David Krumholtz (JK!) and would not be broke and hungry. The Santa Clause copyrighted by Disney and Bernard is copyrighted by the Awesome Curly Hair Foundation….a.k.a. David.

NOTE: Curtis was not the other person riding the snowmobile with Bernard, I know this. I just couldn't remember his name and made him Curtis. This chapter is set on Christmas Eve, approximately a week after the overthrow of Faux Santa.

***Bernard***

This couch was pretty comfy, I guess you could say. It wasn't nearly as comfortable as the couches in the North Pole, but comfortable for a simple, average human home. The hideously printed, yet attractive sweater he was wearing was comfortable, as well.ˡ And the scents coming from the kitchen were absolutely amazing…for a human family, that is.

Lucy and Charlie were playing "Go Fish," and so far, Lucy was winning. Charlie must be letting her win…he has the upper hand cards but isn't calling them out. Is that considered cheating? Isn't cheating a bad thing? Oh well…humans.

Santa and that Neil guy are watching some film called _Star Wars_ and are bickering over the actuality of the film and the technology of today and that it's a great movie that doesn't need to be analyzed. Children, not humans. Children.

Speaking of young, small humans, that reminds me of the short elf right next to me. The quiet, short elf. Now that I think about, he's been quiet AND staring at me every few minutes. Time to pull out the rank card.

"Curtis, why are you being so quiet?" He turns away. If he can stare, so can I. He slowly starts fidgeting and then, starts talking. Finally.

"Um…is your arm doing better, sir?" I narrow my eyes and increase staring power by 5% intervals.

"Well, if we're going to start speaking to each other formally, then, yes, my arm is doing better, Number Two Elf. It's still sore, Number Two Elf, but once Santa gives me those human painkillers, I'll be 'high as a kite'…or so the saying goes…Number Two Elf." He turns and glares at me. I look away and smirk. Oh, the perks of being Head Elf!

"That's good, Bear. I'm so glad that you're feeling better, Bear. So very glad…Bear." He glares even more and now I just want to strangle him with that stupid nickname of his. Suddenly, he starts laughing and I can't help but laugh with him. I can feel Santa and Neil staring at us and I know Charlie and Lucy are probably laughing AT us, as well. But it's just what families do. They laugh, cry, and stare at each other…but they're still there for one another. It feels so great to be a part of a family.

"All right, wash up boys and girl; dinner is served!" Mrs. Laura calls out from the dining room and Carol is there behind her.

"Sweetheart, will you and Curtis help Bernard to the table?" She walks back to the table and I feel Curtis get up beside me.

"Another year, Bernard…and we're back at the Miller's where it all started." He holds out his hand and I take it, trying not to move my right arm which is still in a sling. Scott comes out of nowhere and starts guiding me to the dining room, cautious of my ankle and shoulder. "I've got you, Bernard." I smile.

Everyone gets seated and clasps each other hands. Curtis takes my left hand and Santa softly puts his hand on my head (Why my head? I'm not really sure.)

"Lord, thank you for another year that has brought even more of us together and of course, for Carol's and my food that is absolutely delicious," this brought chuckles and whistles from most of the older men and Charlie, "and thank you for the recovery of our dear elf, Bernard," I blushed and tilted my head even more as Curtis squeezed my hand tighter and Santa ruffled my hair, "and bless the new year that starts tomorrow. Amen!" Many 'Amen's' were heard and then the sound of spoons and other utensils scraped around in bowls and on plates. The music playing in the living room changed to 'Carol of the Bells' and could be heard lightly in the background. It was rather fitting, even though it was still a Christmas song.

_Hark! How the bells, sweet silver bells  
All seem to say, "Throw cares away."  
Christmas is here, bringing good cheer  
To young and old, meek and the bold_

Ding, dong, ding, dong-That is their song  
With joyful ring, all caroling  
One seems to hear words of good cheer  
From ev'rywhere, filling the air

Oh how they pound, raising the sound,  
O'er hill and dale, telling their tale,  
Gaily they ring, while people sing  
Songs of good cheer-Christmas is here!  
Merry, merry, merry, merry Christmas  
Merry, merry, merry, merry Christmas

On, on they send  
On without end  
Their joyful tone  
To ev'ry home

Ding, dong, ding, dong.

I looked around at everyone. They were all laughing and conversing and smiling. It truly was the family I always dreamt of. I smiled to my self and looked at the food at hand. Something seemed off…like something was missing. Santa and Charlie realized his distress.

"Bernard?" The table suddenly went quiet and everyone turned their gazes to Bernard.

"Where's the burritos?" ²

ˡ -I put Bernard in one of Neil's ugly sweaters because of his attraction to one in the first film.

² -The burritos line is a reference to the same scene as the sweater scene in the first film when he stole a pita-looking burrito and started eating it, until Neil took it from him.


End file.
